i need to get proper running shoes to play this though

“All I’m saying is, if you’re going to use the dishes, then maybe you could wash a few dishes!”

“I wash dishes!”

“Running a little water over them and leaving them in the sink is not washing them, Sam!”

“Just because I don’t always wash my dishes the second I’m done eating–”

The second you’re done eating?! Sam, do you see this bowl here? Little bits of lettuce and salad dressing and bacon bits? We both know it’s yours. You used this four days ago!

Dean and Sam storm through the bunker kitchen, arms flailing, feet stomping.

“I’m just so sick of doing all the cleaning around here!” Dean shouts, slamming a pot into the sink.

“All the cleaning? All the cleaning? Really Dean? When was the last time you put away a book?”

Dean groans. “Help me out here, Cas. Tell him–” Dean looks around, brows furrowed. “Uh, Sam? Wasn’t Cas here?”

“Yeah.” Sam says. “He did it again.”

Dean sighs. “He really hates it when we fight.”

When Cas blinks back an hour later Dean is re-shelving books (in their proper places) and Sam is cleaning the kitchen. “Sorry Cas,” Sam says. “Dean’s in the library.”

Cas nods and turns to go. “For the record,” he says, “I like it better when the dishes are done right away, too. But I feel the far worse infraction is Dean waiting three weeks to do his laundry.”

Sam’s surprised laughter follows him down the hall.

Dean has the last three books in his arms when Cas walks into the library. He looks up, a concerned look on his face. “You okay, Cas?” He sets the books back on the table and meets Cas, searching his eyes.

“I’m fine, Dean,” Cas says, a smile playing at the edge of his mouth. “I just needed to…get away.”

“Where do you go?” Dean asks, suddenly curious. “When you get irritated or angry and you zap away, I mean. Do you have someplace special you like to go?”

Cas looks away. “I don’t think you’d believe me if I told you,” he mumbles.

Dean closes the rest of the space between them, putting his arms around Cas. “Well that settles it then. Now you have to show me. You can’t be all mysterious like that and just leave it.”

“You don’t like to fly,” Cas says evasively.

Dean kisses his forehead. “I like to do anything with you.”

“Alright,” Cas says, resigned. “Let’s go.”

Dean gasps.

“But this…this can’t be…” He runs his fingers through his hair, turns in place, stares at his surroundings in disbelief. This just isn’t possible.

He recognizes the place, of course. He had been here with Cas. He’d sat right here (only there was a chair then), looked across this lake, at these trees. He’d looked up into warm blue eyes, blue as the sky…

But this is impossible, because that had been a dream.

He turns to Cas. “Where are we, Cas? Because this…this was in my head.” His eyes widen as a thought strikes him. “Please tell me we are not in my head.”

Cas gazes at soft white clouds passing lazily overhead. “No, Dean. We are not in your head. This is real. We’re in Minnesota.”

Crouching on the dock, Dean splashes his hand in the water. “Wet. Cool.” he mutters, more to himself than to Cas. Louder, he says, “I still don’t understand. How can this be real?”

Cas sits next to Dean, who sits properly and scoots closer to Cas without much thought. Their feet dangle over the edge of the dock, their shoes about two inches above the clear water. “When I visited you in your dream, I knew right away you were dreaming of someplace you’d seen before. The setting was too clear, too detailed, to be anything else. Most dreams are, well, dreamy. The immediate area may seem normal but the edges are hazy. Your dream was sharp. It all felt real. You must have come here with your father, or maybe with Bobby, when you were a small child.”

Dean shakes his head; not denying anything, just trying to find a lost memory. “Definitely Bobby. Dad never took us fishing. His idea of a vacation was a nice, relaxing salt and burn. I don’t remember it, though.”

A splash makes Dean jump. “Just a fish,” Cas says, taking Dean’s hand and squeezing it gently.

Dean laughs. “I’m used to more perilous situations, I guess.” He looks at the trees surrounding the lake, noticing the lack of people or cabins or even other docks. “Cas, this place seems to be in the middle of nowhere. How did you ever find it?”

“I believe the expression is ‘like finding a needle in a haystack,’” Cas says drily. “It took over six months of searching. Finding a person is fairly simple; humans each resonate with minute differences. But to find a specific dock on a specific lake…I had to use my eyes. I had to fly to lake after lake. I had a good guess that you were in the United States, because I didn’t think you’d traveled out of the country as a child, and there was a bit of snow in your memory, so I started with the northern states…” Cas waves his hand as if to indicate it hadn’t been too bad.

Dean gapes at him. “Six months? You spent six months flying around looking for…this?” He slaps his free hand on the dock beside him and then rubs the back of his neck. “Cas, why?

Cas looks at Dean with genuine surprise in his eyes. “I was here with you, Dean. You clearly felt peace here. I wanted that too.”

Dean leans forward and captures Cas’s lips with his own. After a moment he pulls away, breathless. “Did it work? Does this place bring you peace?”

“Always,” Cas says, a smile in his blue eyes. “But it’s better with you.”

supernatural hiatus creations || week seventeen | sets or scenery - Dean’s dream dock

All Decked Out Like a Cowboy's Dream

[Part of the Blue-Eyed Jack ‘Verse]

CW: food mentions, homophobia mentions, being publicly out

When Jack and Bitty started publicly dating, the internet, well…the internet broke, just a little.

Though they were only known in their respective circles – most of Bitty’s colleagues hadn’t heard of Jack and vice versa – it was a big deal. Bitty was suddenly hailed as the “gay Carrie Underwood” and Jack had to order a moratorium on all jokes about his sexy “tractor.” They got the usual “keep your private life private” criticism from the AFA people (“Would that I could, y’all.”) and some nasty remarks from sports commentators, but it wasn’t as if either of them was coming out for the first time.

Mostly they both just had to suffer through the Blue-Eyed Jack memes. It seemed a fair price to pay for being able to date openly.

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Kwami Swap AU gone dark - Part 1, Origins

Part 1 (you are here!), Part 2, Part 3

I have to warn you, this is gonna be a hella long post. I’m sorry.

So, I can’t believe how long it took me but I finally realized why I don’t particularly enjoy how the Kwami swap AU is usually portrayed. Or better, I do enjoy it, but in a highly specific setting: the “Akuma somehow gets them to swap powers" one. That, I love. It has so much comedic and character insight potential, how could I not love it? Nothing like getting to walk a mile in someone else’s shoes to better understand them, right? No, what perplexed me was the other kind of Kwami Swap. The “they get the opposite Miraculous from the get go”.

So far, I’ve only seen this AU played out as something fluffy, but I’m talking past the cutesy idea of seeing our heroes in each other’s suits and roles.What could the actual implications of such an idea be, put realistically (as much as you can when talking about a fictional work) into the show’s canon? Because to me that would be a proper nightmare on so many levels that it’s actually kind of interesting. And this, really, is the whole point of this post. Brace yourself, it gets depressing.

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anonymous asked:

94 Pls

I’m gonna take good care of you.

Stressful weeks weren’t exactly common for you. Most of your life was spent doing paperwork in the office of your boss. As an assistant for a magazine editor, most of your work involved scheduling meetings, getting coffee, answering phone calls and emails that no one else wanted to deal with. In short, your work was beyond mundane. However, this week, your boss had been bedridden with the worst case of the flu you’ve ever seen. As a result, she’d asked you to take care of her work for her. That meant actually running the meetings you scheduled, and getting and drinking the coffee you’d fetched. The stress of the week had almost caused your dreams of being a magazine editor to fly out the window, far far away, and drown themselves in the deepest pit of the ocean, wherever that was. Only one thing had been your saving grace this week, and that was your boyfriend Harry. When work became stressful, he kicked himself into gear, knowing just how hard it is when your job gets a little overwhelming. All week, he’d packed lunches, and had dinner ready when you were home. He even would pour you several glasses of wine as he rubbed your feet because honestly, who freaking knew that magazine editors would be on their feet so much? How’d that make sense? In short, Harry’s support was the only thing that kept you from absolutely losing your shit.

Now though, the week was over, and as of this morning, your boss seemed to be of good enough health to manage coming back to work after the two days the office would be closed. Coming home was the biggest relief of all. You walked in the door and Harry had easy listening music on, your favorite candles lit, and he even had a roast dinner in the oven. He’d become a proper domesticated housewife this week and you began to think that if this is what being a magazine editor married to Harry Styles would be like, you were ready to sign the fuck up. You walked into the kitchen after toeing off your shoes and hanging your coat on the coat rack. There, you were greeted with the most marvelous sight you think you’ve ever seen: Harry, apron on, shirt off, hair a tousled mess, loose shorts hanging from his hips, frosting what appeared to be the most decadent chocolate cake you’d ever have the pleasure of tasting. You knew Harry liked to play caretaker every once in a while, it was as good for his ego as fucking you into oblivion he’d once said, but this…well this was something entirely new to you. When he hears you enter the room, he turns around with a massive smile on his face.

“Hello, lovely!” he seems absolutely ecstatic to see you and it melts every ounce of worry and stress from your bones.

“Harry, sweetheart, what is all this?” you ask, still processing the sight before you.

“Just knew how stressed you’d been this week and thought I’d do something nice for ya,” he smiles, putting a finishing touch on the cake before taking off his apron and walking towards you.

“I think I’m going to have to up my game when you have a stressful week at work,” you laugh before cuddling into the hug he is offering.

“You’ve got to do no such thing. You’re perfect,” he whispers, placing a kiss atop your head and wrapping his lean arms around you.

Just feeling his skin and heartbeat next to you would have been enough to wash away the week, but he’d absolutely gone above and beyond and you were beyond appreciative. Leaning up to press a kiss to his lips, you smile against him and hold him close.

“I’m the luckiest girl in the world. Love you so much, H.”

“Mmm, I’m the lucky one, Y/N. Go sit down, dinner is ready, I’ll be right out,” he says, giving you a quick slap to your butt before going back to his work in the kitchen.

The next hour is spent sitting at your dining room table eating the most delectable homemade meal you’ve ever tasted across from your incredibly gorgeous and mouthwatering boyfriend who exhibits nothing but love for you every single day. The roast is tender and savory, the wine delicious, and the cake perfectly sweet and moist. Honestly, Harry’s cooking skills were slightly intimidating at this point. When you’re finally finished and have thanked him profusely, you begin to gather the dishes and take them into the kitchen.

“Hush, stop tha’,” he scolds. “Go upstairs for me, would you?”

“Wanna be with my perfect boyfriend, though,” you pout, not quite ready to go to sleep despite your exhaustion.

“Oh don’t you worry, love. I’m gonna take good care of you. Went to lush today, bought your favorite bath bomb, it’s on the bathroom counter. Go on up and get a bath going; I know how much you like to plop the bath bomb in and watch it fizzle. I’ll be up in 5 minutes.”

“Marry me,” you mutter, utterly amazed at Harry’s treatment.

“Planning on it,” he smirks causing even more butterflies to erupt in your stomach.

Without a word, you bound upstairs, leaving articles of clothing on a few of the steps to entice Harry when he makes his way up, and draw a bath. As the tub fills, you light a few candles, dim the bathroom lights, and set the mood. The bath bomb fizzles and spins until the water is a beautiful gold color and dipping your foot in, you know it’s the perfect temperature. So, you sink your whole body down into the water. A moment later, the door opens and in walks a stark naked Harry, giant grin on his face, before he climbs in the bath behind you.

“Thought you were cheeky huh, teasing me with your clothes like that?” he asks in your ear, bringing handfuls of water and dripping them over your shoulders.

“Gotta show my man just how much I appreciate everything he does, don’t I?” you quip, settling further into him as the water surrounds the two of you.

“Don’t mind if you do.”

A/N: I was so tempted to do something really smutty with this one, but I need more fluffy Harry in my life. Hope you liked it!!!

these moments | john shelby

@ateliefloresdaprimavera wanted, and I quote: “happy,married to the love of his life John and [reader] who’s like a daughter to Polly”

hope you like it, hun!

You marched down the street, half angry, half exhausted. Groups of kids were running up and down and you cast an eye out to check whether any of yours were there. Men tipped their caps to you as you passed and you barged your shoulder into Polly’s front door, slamming it behind you.

“I got fucking fired, didn’t I?”

“Lovely to see you too, sweetheart. Sit yourself down. Kettle’s just boiled, you can explain yourself”

You huffed, yanking your scarf off and chucking it over the back of a chair.

“Thanks Pol. Where’s the kids?”

“John’s got them”

“John’s got them?”

Polly cast a look up to you as she brewed the pot and smirked when she saw your confused look.

“He was showing Katie her numbers and the rest wouldn’t let them be, you know what they’re like”

“Sorry, no, go back – John’s got the kids? By himself?”

She chuckled to herself and slid a cup over to you.

“Sit yourself down. And explain”

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Take Care Of You Part 2

Lots of fluff, things will get more exciting with the others in the next part! I’ll update my master list in the morning! Also just wondering if I have any male readers? Please let me know, because I have few questions for them!

I tie my hair up in a bun, groaning as I have to change into one of the uniforms in the back. A few curls escape but I’m in too much of a rush to care at the moment. With a pen and a note pad I rush back into the seating area. All the tables are full for some reason today, high schoolers and office workers fill the spots at every low table. I glance at the clock, 4:30, I still have a few hours before I have to get over there. With a big smile I approach my first table, I greet them politely, kneeling next to the table I get each of their orders before heading back to the kitchen to fill it.

I glide through the tea house with my tray in my hand, something I’ve done 1000s of times before, serving, clearing and setting, and repeat. I’m in a flow, helping the other servers with their tables when mine are content, it isn’t until I get my next table that I start to falter. Sitting cross legged at the table is Minseok, and he does not look one bit happy. I briefly consider pawning it off on of the other servers when our eyes lock and I know I have no other option. With my head hung like a child who was caught doing something wrong, I shuffle over to his table and kneel down beside him.

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anonymous asked:

okay so it's 6:57 AM right and I'm on Tumblr with all of Otayuri going down my feed while listening to Lady Gaga and I'm suddenly craving the need to read a oneshot where Otabek walks in on Yuri jamming to like paparazzi or something while he braids his hair !!! I'm hoping you can do since you're a phenomenal writer and I really wanna see a good oneshot like this!

Omg I love this! But I’ll go with Bad romance though, cause it’s my jam ;)

Otabek knocked, rang, knocked again and Yuri never came to open the door. He knows it’s because of how loud his music is, Otabek can feel the vibration of the bass through the door. 

He takes his keychain from his pocket and picks the cheetah printed key Yuri gave him a few months back and gets inside, suddenly hit by the sound of Lady Gaga’s music playing so loud the paint is about to crack on the walls. 

Otabek drops his bag next to the door and takes off his shoes and leather jacket as well. He is fixing his hair int he mirror next to the front door when he hears Yuri’s voice coming from his room at the end of the corridor.


Otabek can’t really help but burst out laughing, even more when he catches Potya running towards him with a look of utter horror on her pretty little face. She paws at Otabek’s leg, like she asking him to save her from her crazy master. He kneels next to her and scratches behind her ears “S’okay big girl. Nothing to be scared of,” and just on cue, he hears Yuri’s voice break on one of the higher notes, “well, maybe just a bit,” and Potya runs off to hide under the couch.

He takes a deep breath to control his laughter and walks to Yuri’s half closed door and pushes it open, again a bit surprised at how loud the music is. It’s a bit too early in the morning for Gaga singing so loudly about her bad romance 

He stops right in his track, staying still in the doorframe as he takes Yuri in. Otabek smiles at the sight in front of his eyes. Yuri, still in his pyjama, tiny purple shorts and a big cream colored sweater. He is standing in front of his mirror and is braiding his long blond hair. He is swaying his hips he is doing it and Otabek is a bit impressed at how straight and perfect the braids are looking with how much dancing Yuri is doing at the the same time. 

Yuri fixes a braid to his skull with a bobby pin that he was previously holding between his teeth and then he spins around, grabbing at his brush at the same time and he starts singing into it like it’s some kind of microphone. 

His hips are following the beat. His sweater slipping from his shoulder as he moves, exposing his beautiful collarbones,

I want your everything as long as it’s-WHAT THE HELL BEKA?!

And Otabek has to raise a hand to protect his face because Yuri all but throws his hair brush at his head when he finally spots him sanding at the door with a stupid dopey smile on his face. Yuri rans to his Ipod and turns the music off, staying with his back to Otabek and hiding what probably is the brightest blush ever in his hands.

Otabek really, really wants to laugh because it’s just the funniest, most adorable thing he ever witnessed.


“Shut up, oh my God, how long were you standing there?”

Otabek bites at his bottom lip and Yuri finally raises his head from his hands and yes, his cheeks are bright and his eyes are wide and fuck, he is gorgeous. It’s enough for him to stop laughing and take a few steps into the room, closer to Yuri, “a few minutes maybe?”

“Aaaargh,” Is what Yuri says before falling face first on his bed, there is something that sounds a lot like “hate you so much right now” that is mumbled in his comforter but Otabek isn’t sure.

“Heeey, I’m the one who almost got an hair brush straight in the eye.”

Yuri turns his head around to look at Otabek, and he at least looks a bit sheepish when he says “sorry, you scared me.”

Otabek reaches out to cup one of Yuri’s cheek in his hand and leans down to kiss his still heated cheek, “Morning sunshine.”

“Morning,” Yuri replies, now smiling a little. He sits back up and pulls Otabek closer with a hand at the back of his head. He gives him a proper kiss on the mouth, soft and a bit shy, but still. “M’sorry. I don’t hate you.”

Otabek laughs softly, “I know that.”

Otabek stands up and goes back to Yuri’s Ipod, picking a much slower song and reaches a hand for Yuri, pulling him up and into his waiting arms. They start dancing around Yuri’s room together. Slowly swaying from side to side, wrapped around each other. Otabek looks by the window and realizes it started snowing.

Potya makes her way back in the room, now much more comfortable with the softer music. She jumps on Yuri’s bed and lays there, watching them slow dancing to Million reasons.

Heeey hope you liked it :)

BTS when their son wants to be a Disney Princess


Are you serious? This man child is going to be the PERFECT Prince Charming to his son’s Cinderella. He went through store after store searching for the outfits and while he found his that only requird some embroidery here and there, he had to compromise and find a dress that was larger than his son’s size and alter it home. Seokjin was disappointed greatly in the children’s costume industry. They did not have a proper Cinderella dress selection to choose from. This is why he had to get a larger dress. Becuase they simply did not fit his son right. And he would be damned if his son looked anything but pefect for Halloween. Halloween was a huge deal for his son and therefor a huge deal for Seokjin. Seokjin worked late into the night making adjustment’s to the dress so that it fit his son just right. When Halloween dawned they went hand in hand down the line of houses and made a killing with candy. Luckily no one notices the bandages on a majority of fingers because it turns out hand altering a dress his not as easy as he thought

Originally posted by bwiseoks

“Even though you are a princess it does not mean you get to eat more than 3 pieces of candy!”


Yoongi didn’t show much of a reaction when his 6 year old son suddenly ran up to him with heart eyes holding up the Snow White outfit he found to wear to his classroom Halloween party. He looked it up and down and calmly asked his son if he was sure that was what he wanted because he wasn’t going to buy him a different one if he changes his mind. His son determinedly said he was sure and marched to the checkout person. However when the kid running the cash register asked his son if he realized that he picked up a dress. His son looked at the cashier in confusion a look that was suspiciously similar to Yoongi’s. Of course he knew he got a dress! The cashier rolled his eyes and made a snide remark. But you are a boy! Boys don’t wear dresses! You should go back and pick out something else! Yoongi quickly got PISSED and was ready to murder this asshole but an idea occurred to him and he just smirked at the kid. You know what? You are right. Come on squirt. Let’s go find something else. His son’s eyes welled up with tears but Yoongi quickly picked him up and whispered in his ear. 15 minutes later they are back in line still holding the dress but this time with a proper crown complete with plastic jewels, a wicker basket that looks just like the one in the cartoon, adorable little heeled shoes, and red play lipstick. Yoongi looked at the cashier as if to dare him to say anything. He didn’t. But that didn’t stop Yoongi from calling in and making a warning complaint to the manager.

Originally posted by imonaworldtour

“Hello? Yes, you see I just came from your store and spoke with a certain smart mouthed little shit and you should know that the next time I see him…”


You never would of known that Hoseok had a minor freak out when his son excited told him that he wanted to be Ariel for Halloween. Don’t get him wrong it’s not that he had a problem with his son wanting to be a princess but what if the other kids tease him? His son is only 7! His feelings could be hurt and it could affect him for the rest of his life! But none the less he took his son to the costume store and helped him pick out a “tutu” version of Ariel because the traditional one didn’t fit him right. He had to admit his son was adorable dancing around in a purple seashells and bright green tutu and green leggings. He even found the long wig in the proper bright red to go with it! And if anyone asked he of course did NOT follow behind his son at a safe distance to make sure no one said anything. He didn’t have anything to worry about. The kids all loved his son’s costume, the parent’s however… Well the police weren’t called but it was a close thing after Hoseok was done with them.

Originally posted by jhope-shi

“Okay I hear what you are saying but hear me out… If you say that again about my son you will be shitting out my shoe for the next month.”


Namjoon could not of been happier to see his son express himself. So when he came up to Namjoon exclaiming Merida was the bestest pwincess ever! I want to be her for Hawoween! In his adorable little lisp Namjoon found himself spending a bit more than he planned for his Halloween outfit. But come on! His son clearly needed a custom made bow! Merida HAS to have her bow in the cartoon therefor his son must have bow! And okay so he didn’t have to buy the expensive velvet green dress and then pay to have it altered. But the look on his son’s face when he saw himself in the mirror with it on was worth every penny. His son even sat and listened intently on the importance of making choices in your life and how to think carefully before acting. As depicted in the cartoon making a rash and selfish decision could hurt someone else. It did seem to escape his notice that his son was only 5 and fell asleep while Namjoon was starting to explain the mythology of Wil-o-wisps.

Originally posted by gotjimin

“You see son, they are fascinating creatures that were actually known to lure travelers into the forest to get them lost inste- Oh. Well I suppose it is your nap time…” 


When his son quietly came up to him and sat his lap, Jimin knew that he wanted something. His son took after him completely. He had his sunny personality, his award winning smile, and his love of singing and dancing. He also inherited his small body structure, so when his son shyly asked if he could be Belle for Halloween, Jimin’s heart sank. He didn’t consider himself old fashioned. He was all for the world changing and becoming more accepting but boys wearing dresses… That was not something that was widely accepted and he just couldn’t bring himself to let his little innocent sweet boy deal with bullies. When he calmly explained that No you can not be Belle for Halloween but you can be the Prince! Or even the Beast! Or maybe Chip? And Jimin’s heart broke when he saw his son’s face fall. His son did not argue but instead nodded sadly and walked over to the corner of the room and faced the wall. Why his son just put himself in time out was baffling to Jimin and he did NOT want to think about how it looked like he was punishing himself for something. Maybe Jimin was spending to much time with Namjoon because surely this thing was not that deep and his 7 year old did not have a complex… Jimin agonized over what to do but in the end he decided that his son’s happiness was more important to him than society standards. So when he presented the golden ballgown and pretty plastic heels with a matching adorable little tasseled purse (not necessary but it was just too cute to pass up), his son’s face lit up like the sun and Jimin knew he made the right choice. His son may face bullying in the future but Jimin would be behind him and his choices 100% of the way. 

Originally posted by 9taefox

“I don’t care what you think. If my son wants to be a princess he will be a princess. You can go find something place dank and horrible to stuff yourself in.”


Taehyung teased Yoongi that his son and Yoongi’s son must of been switched at birth. Who knows?  They were born on the same day…  Because Taehyung’s son slept more than any other kid on earth! Taehyung had heard the horror stories of nap times and bedtimes and was fully prepared with books, songs, and night lights by the time his son was born. But he never had a single problem. In fact he had caught Yoongi napping with Taehyung’s son during play dates. So the irony was not lost on Taehyung when his son runs in screaming about a dress that changes colors and getting a kiss from the prince to break the curse all the while going in circles around the couch. (His son always did wake up with excess energy when he woke up from his naps.) His son came to a skidding halt in front of Taehyung and begged to be Princess Aurora for Halloween. Taehyung dropped his face in his hand for a moment before jumping up and chasing his overactive 9 year old who screeched in terror of the tickle monster. It was at times like these there was no doubt in his mind THIS was his son. After the spontaneous game of tag that was initiated when his son turned and started chasing Taehyung instead of being chased, they sat down in front of the computer. They scrolled through website after website to find the PERFECT dress for his son. Once they decided on a dress that was that shimmery fabric that changed colors as your turn they turned to then find the perfect crown even if son would most likely have the thing broken within a day of wearing it. He took after his Uncle Namjoon in that aspect, it was still the perfect look for Princess Aurora. 

Originally posted by mvssmedia

“I know you are excited to be Princess Aurora but you can’t wear the crown or dress until Halloween because your Uncle Namjoon has rubbed off on you to much and I don’t want the dress spontaneously bursting into flames or anything…”


Jungkook fully blames Seokjin for why his son was wearing a green sheet wrapped around his chest so it flows almost skirt like. I’m Pwincess Tiana! He exclaimed and danced around happily. Not that Jungkook cared about what his son was wearing as long as he was warm in the winter and didn’t get too hot in the summer. But really a bed sheet is not an appropriate dress. So Jungkook let his son pick out a reasonably priced costume dress from a resale website and his son wore it threadbare from all of the times he wore it. It was almost an everyday event where he put on his dress and watched Princess and the Frog which Jungkook knew by heart now.  He admitted that it was adorable when his son sang along. When preschool came around Jungkook tried to convince his son to leave the dress at home because knowing from experience multiple kids in one place normally means something gets broken. But he could not persuade him so in the backpack the dress went. Evidently no one had a problem with son wearing it until late October came around and Jungkook received a phone call from the new Principle. I am sure you were not aware but your son has been seen on multiple occasions wearing a dress. Jungkook was confused. Yes? I know because I pack his bag everyday. Jungkook hears a sigh through the other line. I am sure you think there is no harm in your son wearing a dress but I assure you this will… The woman goes on but Jungkook doesn’t hear her finish her statement because anger fills his ears. How dare she imply his son is wrong to wear what he wants. He catches the last of her montage. Halloween is in three days and I expect to see him in appropriate costume. I know you don’t want your son to grow up to be a deviant to society. He is only 4 so there is time to fix him. Jungkook hung up on her. Rage filled him but he pushed it aside and determination filled him instead. He went online searched for hours until he found exactly what he wanted. He put a rush order on it and when Halloween arrived his son is ecstatic in a brand new Princess Tiana dress… and his father in a green bridesmaids gown. It was the only thing in his size that looked close enough to Princess Tiana. They went to school hand in hand and had the best Halloween party ever. And if Jungkook accidentally spilled the punch on the Principle… well that was of course not on purpose and he defiantly did not smirk at her as she frantically tried to wipe it off her Gucci sweater.

Originally posted by nnochu

“No one tells me my son is going to be a deviant just because he wears dresses. My son will grow up to be who the hell he wants and YOU will not affect him at all or else you will not have a happily ever after… Understand?”

Omg I had so much fun writing this react. Like always I can’t escape the plot but I was able to keep them rather short… Well short for me at least. Requests are open so please feel free to send them! 


(Prussia inserting herself into not her reaction: Kids terrify me!)


“Iron Lady” - [Jeremy Irons / Tom Hiddleston - Multi-chapter].

Summary: Widower Jeremy, falls for and marries his son’s friend despite tripling her age. And just a few years later, his health problems and the return of his best friend, Tom, to London, make him doubt his marriage and wonder if his wife would be better off with a younger man like his friend.

Chapter VII: “Wait”.

Previous chapter(s): 1.”Horses”. // 2.”Books”. // 3.”Wine” // 4.”Berries”.  // 5.“Birthday”. // 6. “Heart”. 

Written by: A.Wölf.


“It’s a great offer!” Tom exclaimed, “Of course I’d be out of London for god knows how long…”

He was comfortably lying on his couch with his hands behind his head, while Jeremy sat on a chair with his feet up on the desk, and smoked a pipe. The two tired men held a conversation while the satisfaction of a good game of golf wore off, and they relaxed in front of the fire and its crackling sound.

“But what’s stopping me, right?” Tom asked.

He glanced at Jeremy when he didn’t answer, and chuckled.


“Right”, he said absentmindedly.

“You’re miles away”.

“I’m thinking about a big bloody engagement ring”.

“Oh hell!” Tom exclaimed with a playful grin.

Jeremy laughed and it was the most honest sound Tom had heard in a while, but it didn’t stop him from talking.

“So you’re serious about her. But isn’t it too much too soon?”

“Not when you’re in love, my friend”.

Every time Jeremy spoke about her, his happiness seemed tangible. It even made him look years younger, Tom could see it. He wondered if he’d ever feel that; if he’d ever understand love and be as lucky as his older friend who would soon be going for marriage number two. His version of the feeling seemed to be more than enough. Jeremy sat up straight and reached for his shoes with a soft grunt that interrupted Tom’s train of thought.

“I think it’s a wonderful opportunity, Tom. You should take it”, he said putting them on before looking straight into his eyes, “Life’s too short”.

The memory and Jeremy’s words reverberated in Tom’s mind while he stared out the window of his home, witnessing the thunderstorm which seemed to melancholically harmonize with the hole he felt in his chest.

A lit cigarette dangled from Mrs.Irons’ lips, and it trembled mimicking her shaky hands as she paced back and forth in the darkness of Jeremy’s studio.

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Otome Sitch: Fatherhood

Continuing with the last otome sitch, where you have a pregnancy scare, this time Precious Anon requested the suitors as fathers! 

Three of these suitors are fathers canonically in at least one of their routes: two from MidCin and one from SLBP. 

I used a random generator, and kept randomizing until I got these three daddios in the proper category, boy or girl, for the baby that they have in their routes. 

Here we go! 

Shigezane and Kyo are the laid-back, cool dads. They know all of the latest slang, but thankfully don’t embarrass their sons by using it in front of their friends. For the most part. There have been some cringe-worthy slip-ups. 

They enjoy a close relationship with their boys, but that time they spotted their son in town and jogged over to say “hi,” only to realize that their son was walking hand-in-hand with his girlfriend, gave them a pang of longing for the days when he was only knee-high.

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Issue with Tissue | Jared Leto + Reader

Note: Not even gonna apologize for the amount of fluff that’s in this. Marshmallows ain’t got nothing on this. Also, apparently the anon went for me and @penelopewhisp so go read her beautiful take on it that made me giggle! Keep the requests coming, babies! Working on them as much as I can, and I love them all so much. 
Request:  Can I request a Jared/Reader having to deal with his back pain lately, and the reader tries to help?
Warnings: So much fluff. 
(GIF isn’t mine)

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“You shouldn’t be here.”

Jumping slightly at the sudden voice, Jeremy looks up from his locker to see Michael watching him with furrowed brows. He shrugs and turns back to his books, eyeing each one until he spots his History book buried underneath four others, but when he crouches lower to slip it out, the small movement leaves his head swimming, and he has to grab weakly at the locker door to keep from teetering over.

“Jeremy,” Michael warns, voice low yet holding an evident color of concern that has Jeremy breathing out a small sigh. And, this proves to be a mistake when the short release of breath catches in his throat abruptly enough to have him turning away in one, sharp movement to cough harshly into the crook of his arm.

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Love is...Unconditional

Banner by the brilliant, amazing and perfectly talented @akai-echo

Parts 1 and 2 are available on AO3/ffnet

Epilogue will post on Valentine’s Day. 

A million thanks to my lovely friend, @eala-musings for betaing this, the incomparable @akai-echo for the prereading, making the gorgeous set of banners and for talking me through some plot points. And finally, to the wonderful @thegirlfromoverthepond , my other partner in crime with @loveinpanem for inspiring this fic. Thank you all!

Part 3 - Release

“I’m fine, I promise,” I said, holding the cellphone in the crook between my neck and shoulder as I spoke to Prim and packed at the same time.

“I know, I know, but I just worry. I’ve never gone a month without seeing you. When are you coming home?”

“Soon, Little Duck,” I said, using my most soothing voice. Peeta quietly took my bag from my hands and checked the room one last time before we shut the door behind us.

“Okay. I just need to know you’re okay and I’ll quit worrying.” Her voice was plaintive, sounding like it did when we were children.

I sighed and watched Peeta pull on his shoes and tie them, knots double-laced, as always. “This trip has been one of the most important ones I’ve ever taken.” He looked up at me, one eyebrow raised as if in skepticism. I held his gaze defiantly as I continued. “I wish it would never end.”

His face softened, becoming thoughtful, then sad, before he let his eyes drop down to his shoes where his fingers still rested on the laces. I wished my sister goodnight and retreated to the restroom to brush my hair and keep myself from falling all over Peeta once again.

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‘Iron Fist’ deserves to flunk out of the TV dojo: EW review

Marvel’s Iron Fist isn’t just the wimpiest punch ever thrown by the world’s mightiest superhero factory. The new Netflix binge swings and misses so bad that it spins itself around and slaps itself silly with a weirdly flaccid hand. But even that might be generous. “Swing and a miss” implies effort. Iron Fist — devoid of vision, lacking in executional chops — barely even tries. It assumes its own marvelousness and proceeds tediously from there, offering few satisfactions for any possible audience. The media was only given six of the season’s 13 episodes for review, but I was snoozing after two and ready to check out after three. This is yellow belt drama that deserves to flunk out of the TV dojo.

The biggest problem with Iron Fist might be the property itself. With all due respect to character’s creators, comic book legends Roy Thomas and Gil Kane, Iron Fist, at least in my humble opinion, just isn’t all that interesting, and the show’s creator and exec producer, Scott Buck (Dexter), and his team fail to unlock any hidden potential or enhance the material to convince me otherwise. The storytelling formula they’ve been given doesn’t do them any favors, either. Iron Fist introduces its protagonist with the kind of season-long origin story common to Netflix-Marvel shows, in which an adult with extraordinary abilities and painful backstory works out issues and slowly develops a costumed vigilante identity. Daredevil forged the mold. Jessica Jones perfected it. Luke Cage did it well. Iron Fist just does it, lazily going through the motions like a bored tai chi artist.

Iron Fist has been described over the years as Iron Man with martial arts, but the series is a wannabe Batman Begins and a few other things, too, stretched way too thin. Danny Rand (Finn Jones from Game of Thrones) is an orphan who lost his billionaire parents when they all crashed in a suspicious plane accident in the Far East. Found and raised by monks who reside in a wintry Brigadoon known as K’un-Lun, Danny spent his formative years learning a mystic type of martial arts. Along the way, he acquired and honed a magical stroke of channeled chi called the Iron Fist, which causes his balled hand to Flame On! and obliterate anything with Hulk Smash! force.

RELATED: Comic-Con 2016: See Portraits of Marvel Studios Stars

All of this hoo-ha is doled out in bits and drabs of flashback. Like all Marvel-Netflix shows, Iron Fist wants to be an adult-skewing neo-pulp urban crime serial, so it downplays the supernatural aspects as if terrified of them. Danny’s blazing balled fist? It’s used sparingly. (As usual, the connections to the broader Marvel Universe, with its thunder gods, sci-fi monsters and radioactive spider-men, are conspicuously minimized.) More so than any other Marvel series, the concept is beholden to the mandate of “the produceable premise,” and the producers have limited imagination for fulfilling it. Anyone wanting Fists of Fury in the City should table the expectation, and modern comics fanboys should abandon all hope of anything resembling the celebrated, stylish run of the comics treatment by Ed Brubaker, Matt Fraction and David Aja that leaned hard into the fantastical.

Iron Fist — which, like Daredevil, aspires to be one half workplace drama, one half action-adventure show — spends the first half of the season slooooooowly developing the first half of this hybrid personality. The series proper begins with Danny — presumed dead by the rest of the world — returning to New York to reclaim his life, fortune and place within the massive corporation started by his father and pursue his do-gooder destiny. In a refreshing change of pace, Danny is no dark knight, though his reverse negative formulation isn’t all that compelling. He’s an elevated man-child, light of spirit and movement, lit with a simpleton’s purity, a hippie-dippy Chauncey Gardener. He re-enters Manhattan on bare feet, gawking at skyscrapers; he shows up at Rand Industries naively expecting to be recognized and greeted like the prodigal son. This could be interesting and it should be funny, but the writing and directing don’t know how to make it so. Jones nails the earnestness, but that’s all he plays.

Danny, an overtly spiritual character, adheres to some form of generic, modulated Buddhism marked by a disinterest in worldly attachments (like, you know, shoes) and a remove from anger that doesn’t detach him from a want for justice. Some have criticized Iron First sight unseen for cultural appropriation, and they’re not wrong. The show validates the complaint by being both slavish and shy about Danny’s purely fantastical K’un-Lun origin story. The character has always been white in the comics, but who cares? Ultimately, I don’t see why Marvel couldn’t have cast Danny with an Asian actor.

The enlightened individual Danny has become contrasted with two childhood friends who initially present as antagonists, but really represent the people he needs to save: brother and sister Joy and Ward Meachum (The Following’s Jessica Stroup and Banshee’s Tom Pelphrey). They’re now soulless suits who manage Rand Industries on behalf of their puppet master pops, Harold Meachum (David Wenham), a ruthless, reclusive mystery man. He has a love interest — and, presumably, future partner in ass-kicking — in the form of Colleen Wing (Jessica Henwick, also from Game of Thrones), a tough and lonely martial arts instructor. (Let me note here that all of these actors are very good, but their characters are skimpy and boring.)

Pacing issues hamper so many Netflix serials. In the Marvel shows, the lag hits around mid-season. Iron Fist is sluggish from the get-go. At first, Joy and Ward take Danny to be a crazy man and treat him as such: Episode 2 traps him in a psych ward, an idyll that immediately sidetracks the narrative when it should be settling into a premise. Eventually, the Meachums come to accept that Danny is Danny and begin to wrestle with the implications, which prods them to confront their own waywardness and set them on track to go from foes to allies. By episode 6, Iron Fist gets Danny into a suit and has him helping people — but it’s a three-piece business suit. His heroism consists of saving the soul of Rand Industries, from trying to make things right with a family devastated by Rand’s toxic pollution, to investigating a plot by Japanese ninja gangsters known as The Hand (introduced in Daredevil), to use the company as a mechanism to sell drugs in Manhattan.

I think Iron Fist wants to be some subversive scold of capitalism or secularism. Rand Industries is monolithic big business as super-villain — the Evil Corp. of Mr. Robot (but without any of the personality or true menace imbued by Michael Cristofer’s Phillip Pryce or Martin Wallstrom’s Tyrell Wellick) — with Danny functioning as a redemptive agent, facilitating change from within, not with subversive hacking but with his love-thy-neighbor conscience and atoning activism. I’m not going to dump on those values; I just wish they were played bolder and with more imagination.

The alt-New York that the Marvel-Netflix shows is interesting, at least in concept. You got Luke Cage up in Harlem participating in the redemption and reconstruction of a struggling community. You got Daredevil and Jessica Jones down in Hell’s Kitchen, looking out for the poor and for women and everyone who would exploit and prey upon them. Now, somewhat above them all but also among them, we have Danny, a billionaire suit with a heart of gold, exercising a liberal social conscience in the board room and on the streets. My theory about Marvel’s The Defenders — the forthcoming team-up show — is that it’ll be a superhero remake of Fritz Lang’s Metropolis.

Whatever they do in The Defenders, whoever the heroes battle, I hope the fights are better than ones we get in Iron Fist. For starters, there aren’t many of them in the first six episodes. But the ones we get are shockingly lame, from the choreography to the performances to the way they are shot. They’re yoga fu.

I think the idea is that Danny is so disciplined in his technique, so mature about his use of violence, he can dispatch opponents with a minimum of moves and with the precise amount of force necessary for the situation. But the show’s ambition to produce an illusion of effortlessness results in fight scenes that look like no effort was put into them at all — as if they shot the dress rehearsal and moved on. All of this said, great fight scenes take time to produce, and in Hollywood, time costs money. I’ve often suspected that Marvel-Netflix shows are made on a tight budget, and it could be that Iron Fist is saving all its pennies for the second half of the season, which promises to have more action as conflicts start to boil, bad guys make their moves, and Danny moves into masked crime-fighter mode.

Yet I can’t say the first half of the season does anything to make me care enough to stick around and find out if I’m right. Iron Fist is pure kung-phooey. Make him number 100 on your list of TV super-guys. D

Iron Fist will be available for streaming Friday, March 17 on Netflix.

anonymous asked:

Hello, again. I couldn't help but think of an idea or two after reading some things and listening to music. If you would, I noticed that there are three of us, thus far, that appreciate King George and I wanted to ask for another two things from you. If it's not trouble, it would be amazing if you could do a King George headcannon on 'Different types of kisses under different circumstances'. And, perhaps a drabble for him with: "I wish you wouldn't do that so often"? Thank you kindly. -Fic Anon

Aww more King G III! I love it ♡ Drabble is first and HCs are second!

George’s royal shoes echoed through the halls of St. James’ Palace. He walked swiftly as usual, calling your name while attempting to keep a proper appearance. Court was in session and you were typically by his side, but not today. Though court wasn’t an official meeting it was appropriate for the Queen to make an appearance with the King, but sometimes you hated court. All the stuck up people asking you when you were expecting and how they hoped it would be a boy, for the bloodlines sake of course.

George passed a window, paused a for moment, before walking back to the window. He nearly had a heart attack as he saw you outside…in the snow, with just a day dress and a cloak not near thick enough to keep you from catching a cold. This wasn’t the first time you escaped court to play outside with the other noble’s children. In summer you would walk through the garden’s or play hide and seek with them. George stormed to the nearest door, walking down the steps.You were busy ducking from a snowball thrown by a child behind a tree to notice you husband, the King coming down the stair. The children all hide the little packed snow behind their back and looked down, 

“What’s the matter?” you asked, worried why they looked so scared. 

One of the maids who took care of the children nodded to behind you. Immediately knowing what was going on you spun around to see you husband, arms crossed, tapping his foot against the platform on the middle of the stair. You bit your lip, holding the snowball behind your back as you walked up the stairs to meet him where he was. 

“Hello, Darling,” you smiled, trying to sound happy.

“Yes, hello. Why are you out here in the freezing cold?” he asked demandingly.

“Well…court was getting boring, and I missed the children,” you shrugged still smiling, wishing he would relax a little more, “so I joined them.” 

George rubbed a hand against his forehead, “i wish you wouldn’t do that so often…”

“They’re just children-”

“And I wish you would consider ours!” he gestured to your abdomen, “You’re hardly dressed for outside and you could catch your death out here, all for what a snowball fight?”

You looked down, smiling to yourself, before regaining proper composure, “Well, our child will need at least one fun parent.”

George did not find it amusing as you smashed the snowball you had behind your back on top of his head. His jaw dropped open, as you giggled. A few of the children snickered a little, trying to repress laughter, even the maid had to cover her mouth. They all adored you and your sense of fun, finding it hilarious how you complimented George’s seriousness.

“I may not be an expert, but I’m pretty sure that wasn’t fair.” George brushed some snow off his shoulders. 

You twirled a little, still giggling, bitting your lip. You turned around to walk back down the steps, before gasping, feeling cold underneath your dress. Did he just…shove snow down the back of your gown? When you turned around George was already on his way up the stairs, hands properly behind his back, regaining his nobel stature.

“George!” you exclaimed, reaching behind you to try and get the snow out, “Get back here, you can’t just walk away!”

“I have royal duties to preform my dear, have fun having fun!”

Different kisses in different situations:

  • In court
    • when you had to attend royal events such as balls and parties
    • George always wanted you by his side and would often show affection
    • his kisses were soft and sweet
      • placing them against your temple as you talked to nobles 
      • when the two of you sat in your thrones he kissed your forehead
        • these always looked so royal as you would have to lean closer together, bowing to him a little to receive this kiss
        • these were also the kisses everyone saw after you entered the room
    • He would often capture a quick kiss while the two of you were dancing
      • His arms wrapped around you, pulling your body close against his
      • He would dip down to place a sweet kiss to your lips, spinning you around the ballroom

  • Under pressure
    • as King, and with colonies rebelling he was very stressed individual
      • after official meeting, you waited for him to return to your chambers 
      • you could tell just by his actions if he was stressed or not
      • he’d quickly get out of his royal uniform, tossing things all around the room as he took them off
        • his kiss and touch was rougher, yet desperate 
          • he’d crash his lips against your moving his mouth against your passionately 
          • he’d be the dominant one in these kisses wanting to feel in control of some part of his life
          • slipping his tongue in your mouth, exploring
          • usually backing you up against a wall 

  • Young love
    • when George and you were still getting to know each other (despite already being married, yay for arranged marriages!)
    • he cherished when you gave him physical attention 
      • seeing it as a way that you showed your trust and love
    • you initiated a lot of the kissed during this time
      • George didn’t want to rush or overwhelm you
        • afraid he’d lose you if he did
    • you convinced him it was okay for him to kiss you 
      • after this he kissed you all the time
        • waking up
        • when you entered a room
        • if he met you in the garden
        • literally everywhere
      • you adored these as he would hold your face in his hands bringing you into a sweet draw out kiss

  • Behind closed doors
    • he always came over as you prepared for bed and kissed your bare shoulders or back as it was the only time he saw your exposed skin
      • he would run his hands up your arms, fingertips grazing
      • his lips would press a soft kiss onto your skin
      • as you closed your eyes, he would become more passionate 
      • starting to nip at the tender skin
        • this almost always resulted in you two laying on the bed
    • once you were under him, he loved kissing your neck
      • your hands travelled his body as he moved between your lips and neck
      • he would give long and sensual kissed in bed, letting you feel his passion for you
    • these kisses were special to you as it was really the only time you two got alone

bosstoaster  asked:



I meant to have this up yesterday, but then Circumstances coughcarriedawaycough got the better of me. :)

This fill is entirely based off @capricornkeith’s headcanons regarding Hogwarts houses for the Paladins, which Boss and I both vehemently agree with. In fact we got so carried away talking about them that, uh, this was the entire reason for my opening up AU prompts in the first place. :) This is the longest fill I’ve done yet. Happy birthday!!

(in celebration of 100+ followers I’m answering AU fills! This one also doubles as Boss’s birthday gift, because she is amazing and I’m so glad we’re friends. As such it’s probably way too long for tumblr, so I’ll cross-post to A03 in a couple days. <3 ENJOY)

00. These are the things that Shiro has.

His cherry wand, a perfect 10 3/4”. The dragon heartstring core is entirely responsible for Shiro’s three-year-obsession with dragons, which waned somewhat after starting lessons in Care of Magical Creatures in his Third Year. Though he no longer wants to be a Dragon Trainer, he still holds a strong admiration for the majestic creatures. Hopefully one day he’ll even see one outside of the pages of his textbook.

Shiro has two Broomsticks: the unaltered Comet 290 that he plays in school Quidditch matches, and the Cleansweep Seven he definitely hasn’t charmed to go faster, not at all. Shiro has his eyes on one of the new Nimbus models, but he can’t quite afford it. Maybe someday.

A full set of Hufflepuff ties, the yellow and black stripes bold and honest. Shiro’s proud of his House. He belongs there. He’s never felt otherwise. He isn’t a Gryffindor like Allura; Shiro’s brave, absolutely, but his level of bravery’s nothing compared to Allura’s take-no-prisoners, ask-permission-later method of dealing with adventures. Shiro certainly isn’t a Ravenclaw either, though that House suits Matt to a tee; Shiro’s intelligent and hard-working, yes, but his hard work can’t hold a candle to Matt’s voracious thirst for knowledge. The Sorting Hat said Hufflepuff; Shiro’s never found a reason to argue. He’ll do what needs to be done and he’ll fit in where he is, and gladly. He always has. The Hufflepuffs are his people.

He has his Prefect’s badge, now retired in favor of the Head Boy badge, delivered to him in a school envelope addressed in the orange ink everyone associates with Deputy Headmaster Coran. Shiro’s mom cried with pride when Shiro explained what it meant.

Two fantastic parents, supportive despite that their son isn’t going to an engineering school, isn’t going to be a doctor or a lawyer but something completely different. The Shirogane family’s adapted well to the surprise of magic in their household. Shiro’s well aware he’s lucky.

Shiro’s lucky also that the Shirogane family’s become such good friends with the pureblooded Holts. Samuel Holt gave Shiro his coming-of-age watch, a beautiful creation with self-winding hands and the moons and the planets and everything. (“You’ve got your own parents, of course,” Sam said, when he presented it to Shiro at the party, “but a wizard man needs a proper watch of his own, in our world. It’s tradition.”)

A fantastic and fabulous group of friends, scattered across multiple years and Houses. Allura and Matt are key, of course. Shiro’d met them both on the train that infamous September First, six years ago. Their friendship has stuck and carried true, despite that none of them are in the same House. Shiro doesn’t mind. His friends are perfect where they are.

Shiro has one consistently visible scar, stretched thin but stark across the bridge of his nose. It’s from a time before he and his parents really knew about magic. They know now. They’d been lucky.

Shiro has two flesh-and-blood, perfect, natural hands. He’s ambidextrous, which caused a bit of a challenge in Ollivander’s shop six years ago. He prefers to use his right hand, but he’ll switch it up on occasion. The Hogwarts Dueling Club will never forget that surprise. He’s not entirely sure Allura’s forgiven him yet.

Yes, Shiro is a child of two worlds, a Muggleborn pulled into something wonderful and truly magical.

The long and short of it is, too: the Shiro we know in this universe has the scar across his nose, but he hasn’t lost his right arm.


01. Summer

Keith goes home with Shiro for the summer holidays.

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The Art Of Letting You Go.

REQUEST: Hi! I really like your Vernon scenario! :) can i request a Seungcheol angst thats based from Tori Kelly’s Art of letting you go? Thanks! :) hope you’re having an amazing day!

A/N: I’m really hoping this is what you wanted. Thanks for the request!   (I was going to write this as soon as I received the request, but I was very tired so I took a nap first, sorry)

{Based on The Art Of Letting You Go by Tori Kelly}

Daddy Coups Choi Seungcheol

Word Count: 1.2K

WARNINGS: Mention of death, mention of divorce, sad ending, one-sided love, douchey S.Coups

~Category: Angst

Originally posted by imbangnzelo

You were sat on the couch fidgeting with the TV remote and contemplating what to do. You wanted to call your friend, Seungcheol and see if he wanted to go for ice cream, but you were afraid you’d be rejected. Of course he had a beautiful girlfriend so it wouldn’t be a date or anything. You’d be lying to yourself if you said that you didn’t have a serious crush on him, but he was out of your league and he only saw you as a friend. You always thought about Seungcheol and you always wished you were his girlfriend instead of Eunha. She’s beautiful, lively, generous and kind. She was everything you wished to be.

You got a girlfriend and stuff, feelings are bottled up.

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The Craving (prt 5 to Immoral)

Originally posted by gothamfox

Part 5 of Immoral (Part 4 HERE)

Promot:  reader and Ed are roommates and the reader catches Ed after he killed Ms. Kringle. Ed gets all panicked, but the reader helps him dispose of her body and sex in the wood ensues

Warnings: Smut

TAG LIST:  @you-may-call-me-penguin-love  @mrapollo-vs-mrdionysos , @misfitgirl3390 , @amandajuly81  , @the-brilliant-questioner @dappercobblepot @gotham-after-dark @bgstarwarsgeek , @savisosweet 

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anonymous asked:

Can I request a BTS reaction where it's raining outside and your white shirt gets soaked and your bra is showing but you don't notice cause your innocent. Thanks!

Hi! Sorry, I know this is really late, I tried, but my laptop needs to be checked
I’ve always wanted to do one like this xD I’ve been waiting

BTS Reaction When It’s Raining Outside and your shirt gets wet

You and Jin were on a dinner date. It was beautiful when you entered the restaurant, but time flied by and you didn’t even notice the rain. Sadly, the two of you didn’t expect the weather to change so drastically, so none of you had an umbrella. The both of you also walked to the restaurant.
“Let’s just run it jin”
“What- Are you crazy?!” You grabbed his hand and ran back to your apartment. Luckily, it wasn’t far away. As soon as you entered, the both of you took a breather. He glanced over to you and noticed that your clothes were soaked, “See? You’re soaking wet princess. I’ll go start a bath for you”
“Ah, thank you Jin” You stood up and stretched, “That was good exercise, huh?” He didn’t answer back so you looked at him and found him staring at your chest. He swallowed thickly before looking back at your eyes, “S-Sorry, I was distracted, what?”

The both of you return home soaked. “Well that was unexpected” he said, breaking the silence, “No kidding” You took off your sweater which was completely drenched and threw it into the laundry. You didn’t notice that your soaked sweater also got your white shirt wet. The shirt itself was almost see through, but there’s no doubt it definitely isn’t now. You walked back to Namjoon, he was changing his clothes. You walked in on him changing. He stared at you (Or more specifically your chest) “Uhh… B-Baby, would you like to.. borrow a shirt?”
“That would be great, thank you” He sighed at the fact that you were so innocent. He told himself to stay calm as he threw a shirt over to you before walking out the door, “uhh, I’ll leave you alone to get dressed” He would say before closing it and maybe accidentally knocking something over in his attempts to stay calm

You were on your way to see Jimin for the first time since he came back from tour. You were happily walking to his house when rain drops slowly hit your face. “oh shi-” Before you could even finish, it started down pouring. You dashed towards the house that was still a few blocks away. You slipped a few times, but not enough to make you fall over. You quickly rang the doorbell and you were greeted by a smiling Jimin, “Hi Jagi! I missed you- oh..” You quickly entered the house, soaking wet. Jimin couldn’t help but stare. You took off your shoes and tried to fix your hair. You were about to head to the bathroom to fix yourself up but Jimin stopped you when he pulled at your waist, bring you into a back hug, “it’s the first time you see me, and you’re not even going to give me a proper hug?”
“I’m sorry Jimin, I just need to fix myself up-” He kissed you passionately and you couldn’t escape his grasp. He started playing at the hem of your shirt, pulling it up. He nibbled on your ear before his hot breath spoke, “You know I love lace, right?”

You always did things like this. You always did the smallest and most innocent things that would make Yoongi’s heart flutter and his stomach flip. You were so fragile and innocent and he secretly loved it about you. The way you would absent mindedly eat a popsicle or lick a lollipop would make his thoughts go wild. And now, you’re standing before him, dripping wet god cleanse your minds people, your bra showing through your white tee. You had no idea what you were doing to him, yet you still played so innocently. He couldn’t handle himself any longer and attacked you with kisses, “Yoongi-ah! stop it! You’ll get wet!”
“Maybe I already am"asdfghjkl


Playing in the rain was a thing. And you did it with your boyfriend. It was a ton of fun, splashing around, acting out raining movie kisses. But it was when You started sneezing when Taehyung said the both of you should so inside. The both of you had so much fun outside that you didn’t even notice how drenched you were. You took off a sad excuse for a rain coat and went into the bedroom to get some new clothes. You realized Taehyung was in there and he was half naked. It made you blush at the sight, but he didn’t seem to notice. Not wanting to bother him, you asked him to throw you a shirt, “just come inside, I don’t mind” He smiled. You walked inside the room and he looked at you. Scanning your body up and down, his blank face showed before it turned into a smirk. He licked his lips and wrapped his arms around your waist, “We had a lot of fun outside, but how about we do something to warm us up, jagi?”

It was a great day for the two of you. Just having a casual walk in the neighbourhood. Your hands intertwined. Nothing could make this day bad, or so you thought. The rain drops hit. Light at first, but soon taken over by heavy pounding. Once returning home after getting drenched you looked at each other. There was a moment of silence before the both of you burst into laughter. “Well, that was a great way to end our walk” he said, grabbing a towel for the both of you, “yeah, That’s too bad though… I was looking forward to it, but we didn’t even make it to our destination” “That’s okay, because I get to see you like this” he walked closer to you. You noticed that a dark glare took over the happy one, “I think the rain was trying to tell us something” he said, moving in for a kiss

The shower head broke. You yelled for Jungkook and he came rushing in, “Everything okay??” “The shower head is broken, could you fix it?” “Yeah, you might have to help me though” The two of you struggled trying to get it back into place. You accidentally turned the shower on while trying to help him, which eventually got the both of you soaking wet. “JAGI!!” “IM SORRY!!” You panicked and moved back, letting him finish the job as you watched. Once he was done, he walked out. You noticed you could see through his shirt and you blushed a little. He wasn’t any different. He saw your bra showing. He told himself not to stare, but it wasn’t something he could help. He walked over to you and kissed you out of no where, “what was that for?” You asked, clueless, “it’s just so I can temporarily stop my hunger. But I’ll be coming back for more in a bit. Just you wait jagi” he smirked before leaving the room.

Hope you liked!
~Admin Luna

anonymous asked:

👑 mafia au

With many million thanks to the ever kick ass @kickassfu who has put up with my gifs for two days and even read this over out of the kindness of her heart!

Thank you for being so wonderful and giving a damn about my writing when even I don’t.

Also you’re an amazing writer and I love you.

Please enjoy!




Caroline huffed at the rain coming down on the crowd that surrounded her probably ruining her blowout and her very, expensive Parisian shoes but she didn’t move. It was against orders. Even now she rolled her eyes at the image of Stefan waving her favorite gun in her face threatening to shoot her with it if she didn’t follow through. Pulling her umbrella out she tried to look as inconspicuous as possible which was hard for a girl with her looks.

No, she wasn’t conceited it was just a given. Caroline probably cursed her looks more than half the time but they got her further into the fold of her criminal family than running the books ever could. Being born into the mafia only got you so far that much she knew being born into the Forbes legacy, the rest a girl had to work for.

She was groomed to be the perfect mob wife, loving gems of every color, knowing who and when to strike but Caroline fought to be more than a pretty face. Caroline was on her own to prove she could get a hit no one could get, Silas, her father’s one true enemy, he had been such an easy read and her being a woman, he never suspected her. Misogynistic bastard.

In this life you were in deep or you were out in the cold but either way it was better than dead cold and sometimes buried. She had even managed to talk him into her trunk before she shot him, two in the skull; Caroline had preened shutting the boot of the car and driving home. When everyone had seen what she’d done they had celebrated until four in the morning and honestly Caroline didn’t remember half of it all she remembered was that she had slept with him, for the first time that night.

With her head bowed low she smirked at the memory as she watched waiting for her mark knowing this is where he would be having kept tabs on him subtlety all this time. It wasn’t her first kill but it was the first she’d feel bad about. He’d been a good lay once when she was young and eager but time had shown its pretty colors to the pair of them and his time was up.

They had sent her expecting results, Caroline always gave results, but she suspected they were testing her. Her loyalty, again, as if Klaus Mikaelson had anything to do with her loyalty to the family she sneered watching the windows as she saw movement inside of the brick building she was watching. It all seemed black and white to them and to them it probably was and it should’ve been to her too.

Klaus had left, joined a rival gang and mysteriously worked his way up a lot faster than she had, done a lot more killing than Caroline would care for having grown up with these guys. That’s where she knew she was still a little too green, these bastards wouldn’t hesitate to kill her but Klaus always would and her family was counting on that. The building’s door opened, the old bell’s sound alerting her to him drawing her away from her reminiscing.

He hadn’t noticed her but she would have to be careful tailing him as he traveled on foot switching sidewalks and back roads in case he was being followed. Klaus would always catch her when she was sneaking up on him in the compound pulling her into rooms they shouldn’t be in to play. She must have been caught up in thinking about these moments too much because he’d walked her right into a dead end.

He turned pulling a weapon from his jacket as he did pausing as he spotted her face under the umbrella, “Bugger, Caroline, you might have frightened me to death,” he uttered in relief.

“That was kind of the point,” she replied in kind treading closer losing her umbrella as he drops his weapon and she lifts hers watching his eyes flicker from her face to her gun.

“So they sent you,” he said betrayal hidden in his tone as he drops his only defense on the ground just like they had all expected him to.

“I’m sorry,” Caroline replied as she cocks her gun shooting him just near his heart watching him tumble to the cold wet ground clutching at his chest.

“You know I actually believe you this time,” he murmured in a weakening tone as she rushes to his side, “Seems fitting though. This is where you’d shoot me.”

She laughed but it was dry, as she holds him on her lap holding his hand to his chest thinking maybe he won’t die, “Here in the heart or at a dead end?”

“Both,” he breathed his eyes slowly closing as he clings to her, “If you would have just come with me,” he tried again but blood flows from his mouth.

“Good job Caroline,” Damon said appearing at the end of the road, smug as ever applauding her as Klaus lays dying in her arms.

“Funny, I don’t even need to call him closer, he comes like a good puppy,” she muttered just under her breath so only Klaus can hear her.

“You’re right, Sweetheart,” Klaus murmured as he reaches for his own gun nearby where he dropped it shooting the Salvatore before he could get another step in.

Another shot resounded in the air and Damon fell to the ground fatally wounded as Klaus ripped open his shirt, “Bloody blanks hurt,” he muttered pulling the bullet from his vest.

Caroline laughs, “Probably from the force of impact,” she said kissing him chastely, something she hadn’t done in years. “Come on, we can’t leave him out here exposed.”

“I’m wounded,” Klaus pouted pulling Caroline in for a proper kiss that was long overdue and lasted longer than both might have cared to admit after years of being apart.

When she first caught wind of this scheme Klaus was already aware of it, it seemed Tyler had been bragging about it in some bar not too long before Caroline had found out. ‘A lucky break’, he had called it when she had used her burner phone and dialed the number she swore she would never need. His voice, familiar and altogether strange had Caroline switching sides and going against her own family.

They talked almost every night, plotting out just what would happen, leaving nothing to chance so sure they would send her to kill him. Caroline had been proven right just three days ago before she had been sent to Boston where they knew Klaus would be alone. Everything went according to plan, everything but the residual feelings that had been exposed by the pair of them when she shot him. She tried to chalk it up to playing the part perfectly as they dumped Damon with a cleaning crew he knew. Her family by now had gotten wind of what she had done and Stefan would no doubt be keeping her gun if only to kill her with it one day and Caroline was planning on making it very hard for him to do.

Klaus had said she wouldn’t have to move up in ranks with him, that she would be at his side though he hadn’t gone into detail about what that would entail. Caroline had made it clear that she wouldn’t be a side piece for him or any of his men, and Klaus had vehemently agreed. As the day grew longer Caroline could only think about what Klaus had planned for her. What her new boss had in store for her and unfortunately they were the same man.

The car had stopped moments only  ago as she drowned in her thoughts as she vaguely realized that Klaus already on his way out of the vehicle when he ducked his head back in asking, “Are you alright?” his eyes holding hers so she wouldn’t lie to him.

“Big changes, that’s all,” she uttered undoing her seat belt to join him knowing the pressure had doubled on their backs just by being seen together.

Caroline had to prove she was loyal now; it wouldn’t be enough for everyone he worked with that Klaus believed in her. Still when she stood up on the sidewalk pretending not to be surprised when he held her hand without a second thought Caroline knew she had made as right a choice as anyone could in this life. Following Klaus into the dark old building she hoped it wasn’t to her death knowing this place wasn’t his main headquarters and she would have to wait to get back home, where ever that was now.

“Where are we?” she asked hesitantly as they climbed up the stairs of the building wishing she had worn more comfortable shoes for this day especially since she would probably be interrogated in a bit.

“My dwelling, no one would ever think to find a mafia leader here,” Klaus replied easily surprising her, something he must have noticed, “Tomorrow we go home.” He said almost reading her mind.

“Klaus,” she asked stopping short wanting to ask what his intentions were but unable to, “Never mind,” she said as they climbed up the third staircase and Caroline pulled off her shoes hearing him chuckle.

“Just in here Love,” he said unlocking the door as she caught up with him, “It’s not much but there’s a couch which I’ll take and a bed for you.”

Caroline’s face didn’t hide the fact that she was disappointed that much was evident by his confident smirk as Caroline turned around trying to hide the fact that he had gotten to her. She felt cold, her umbrella in the back of his car lying on the seat useless and they had run errands after killing Damon. Her clothes were sticky and wet making her freeze in the tempered room as he watched her slide her jacket and black top off of her skin.

Her head turned back to look at him, “I’ll need something to change into,” she told him watching as his mouth hung open watching as she stripped out of her camisole leaving her in a lacy see-through bra.

Klaus swallowed at her movements sensual and above suspicion, completely Caroline, “Shirts,” he uttered with a certain hoarseness to his tone as he pointed to the drawer that would accommodate her best as he gathered himself.

He heard her laugh as she walked to the drawer set opening the one he had pointed to as her free hand unbuttoned her jeans. Red flag, he thought. Caroline was toying with him, his mind screamed at him, after all this time she still had the power to bring him to his knees and he liked it. What had transpired today was merely more proof of it.

Klaus slithered closer pulling his shirt over his head as she straightened pulling her hair over her neck, “Could you help me?” she asked as his hands slid over her back to unhook her bra.

Caroline shivered, she didn’t want to earn his deference by sleeping with him and she certainly didn’t want his gang to think she would be lucky to fall into bed with either one of them. The thing was she wanted Klaus pure and simple. She would work for him sure, keep him close and maybe murder off any of the girls who thought they had a chance with him on the sly.

However Klaus, she couldn’t quite read, ever since earlier when he basically said she had his heart he’s been stand-offish at best so she took to teasing him, just a little. His resolve was strong but her will was stronger and she needed to get him to talk to her, look at her like he once did, as a woman not as another tool in his arsenal.

“Perhaps a shower?” he offered as she pulled his shirt covering her lithe frame from his eager eyes, Caroline shook her head at him as she moved past.

“Too much effort Boss,” she said but the way she said it had his head turning as she slipped out of her jeans and panties before crawling onto the bed giving him a view that made his fingers tremble.

Caroline smiled as she tucked herself into the sheets that smelled of him inhaling deeply as he watched her, “Comfortable?” he asked sharply.

“Did you need a pillow?” she replied in kind tossing him the one that didn’t smell like him, as she settled on her side watching him catch it and sit on the edge of the couch.

“Thank you,” he said punching the pillow as he toed of his shoes and wet socks planning on keeping his jeans on lest she feast her eyes on a familiar protruding member of his anatomy.

“Klaus,” she called his name in way that made his bones chill in pleasure, “Get in the bed, it doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to.”

He lay back so she couldn’t see the face he made, “I’m perfectly fine here,” he then told her rubbing his cock hissing softly as he rolled onto his side so she couldn’t see him touching himself.

“Fine, I’m climbing on top off you and we’ll both sleep on the couch,” Caroline cried as she tumbled out of his bed pulling the sheets with her and settling on top of him.

“Caroline,” he said in a dark tone she knew would have others shaking in their perfectly fitted suits but she just smiled relishing in the feel of his bare skin under her fingertips.

“Bed, now,” she ordered as his arms went around her waist sitting them up reminding them both that all she was wearing was his shirt.

He groaned looking as if he was in pain as he lifted them both up feeling Caroline wrap her legs around him, “You know I could have you killed for this right?” he asked.

“You know I could have really killed you earlier right?” she shot back as he pressed her back into the mattress pulling the sheets she carried over them creating a small bubble for them both.

“Why didn’t you?” he asked, a loaded question for sure, one they hadn’t bothered to discuss in the last few days or ever at least until now.

“I don’t want you dead,” she whispered as her hands cupped his face feeling exposed, feeling his weight on her, feeling everything at once so much that her eyes watered.

“I love you and I never got to say it before but I want to now. Every day if you’ll let me,” she confessed watching his every expression, every feeling she felt touch his eyes.

“I believe you now too,” he murmured before brushing his lips over hers with the briefest of teases as his hands pushed her shirt up leaving her naked under him.

“Really, no, ‘I love you too Caroline’?” she asks as he kisses her loving the feel of her body squirming underneath him as his hands roam over the tense muscles of her stomach.

Shuddering at the feel of her nails digging into his arms as he kisses her, “It was implied,” Klaus answered her as they twisted in the sheets fighting over who got to be on top.